


Merely an obstacle

by lover_of_fanfics



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A little bit humurous, Amnesia, Amnesia Sherlock, Definite fluff, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, M/M, Name Changes, Or at least I think that, Sad until the end, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sherlock is clueless, all of name changes, all of this happens in seven days, because Sherlock just doesn't know, head in the fridge, the days are all pretty short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_fanfics/pseuds/lover_of_fanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has set off an experiment (yet again) that causes him to suffer amnesia. He finds that solving the mystery on his own is more fun so he avoids telling John that he is clueless on everything. Over the course of seven days Sherlock feels more and more lost with who he is and who this mysterious, handsome stranger he is living with is. But maybe he'll be lucky enough to receive what he so desperately craves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merely an obstacle

He woke up, looking at his surroundings. He was in a bedroom, that was for sure, but everything else was a mystery. He licked his lips as he sat up in, what he presumed was, his bed and took a look around. The room was a disaster; he wondered what might have happened here. Maybe he’d been hit on the head by something? The one thing he knew was the most important thing to find out was what his name was.

He searched the room for something, anything. He eventually came across a badge that said Gregory Lestrade. He smirked in triumph, so his name was Gregory. He looked around; he had a lot of badges. Maybe he’d often lost them? He shrugged it off and headed out of his room, satisfied with the knowledge of his name. He passed a mirror, shattered, on his way out of his room and frowned. He looked at the man on the badge and then in the mirror, absolute opposites.

The man on the badge had chestnut brown skin while his own was nearly white with its porcelain fairness. And the man also had silvery hair that was short and straight while his own dark hair lay in messy curls upon his head. He sighed and threw the badge back on his desk, so his name was not Gregory after all.

Not-Gregory finally exited his room and walked into the kitchen. He still found that he remembered simple things, such as what room was what and where some things were. He looked on the table to find some sort of green liquid that looked like it had come from a sort of little explosion. He assumed that it was nothing and shrugged it off once more.

He looked at the fridge and felt his stomach twist in an unbarring pain, walking towards it as he felt it was full of food. As fridges should be, he thought. When he opened the fridge he was horrified to find there was a severed head in it. Upon seeing it, Not-Gregory screamed loudly and slammed the fridge door shut.

Almost immediately after his screaming, Not-Gregory heard something bounding down the steps that were in the hallway. He found himself in fear that it may be the body that this grotesque head belonged to. “Sherlock! Bloody hell, are you alright?!” He heard the voice ask. He turned around and was relieved to see that this body did indeed have a head. The body was actually quite nice looking. Definite muscles showed through the man’s robe that just matched his tan skin and pale blonde hair perfectly. The man had piercing blue eyes that were absolutely astonishing to look at, not to mention his toned legs as well. Sherlock? Was that his name?

He, Sherlock, stood up carefully and looked around. Who was this man? He found himself not wanting to answer to him, wanting to solve this mystery on his own. He nodded and shrugged at the man, who rolled his eyes but smiled fondly. It was a warm smile that Sherlock figured was natural for the man. “Alright then, for whatever reason it is you’ve chosen to give me a heart attack this morning.” Sherlock smirked and shook his head. “Unfortunately no, if you were having a heart attack you’d have shooting left pains in your arm and be crouched on the ground at this very moment. And it would not have been my screams that killed you, but your reckless running down those stairs.”

The man laughed softly and shook his head, this felt a bit warm to Sherlock once again and he smiled softly at the man. “Same old Sherlock.” He said, walking behind Sherlock and going through the cabinets. “Shall I make you your tea then?” He asked and Sherlock nodded, walking out to the couch and slumping down on it. He watched the man work efficiently in the kitchen.

His quick but subtle movements proved that he was not a guest to this house, and the way he ran down the steps at a simple yell proved that he was quick on his feet. The way he stood, back straight and feet always apart, and the way his hair line was cut showed that he had definite military experience. The way he swayed ever so slightly while making Sherlock’s tea showed a type of adoration for Sherlock to this man. Sherlock laid back on the couch, deducing finally that this man was some sort of partner to him.

Sherlock laid thinking on the couch, hands in a prayer pose placed gently under his chin. This man could not simply be a meaningless one night stand to Sherlock, obviously, for he knew where everything seemed to be in this house. Sherlock came to the conclusion that this was a long-term boyfriend that he’d had for quite some time. The thought brought a soft smile to his lips, but he frowned once again when he remembered one significant detail. He had no idea what this man’s name was or what he did or where he was from, or anything really.

The only thing that drew Sherlock from his thoughts was the soft clink of a tea cup being placed next to him on a table. He sat up and held the tea to his lips without drinking it as he stared at the mystery man curiously. The man had a cuppa of his own and he sat in a red armchair reading what looked to be the newspaper. He was wearing a dark blue robe that suited him well, and a pair of simple white socks. Sherlock saw that the man had caught him staring and he looked down as he took a sip of his tea.

Sherlock’s eyes widened and he smiled as he took another, bigger sip. “This tastes fantastic!” He exclaimed happily. The man just chuckled and the laugh was enough to warm Sherlock from head to toe. “Of course, I know how to make your tea. You’ve told me on more occasions than one how I always make the best tea.” Sherlock smiled softly, realizing this man was impossibly modest. He watched as the man’s eyes crinkled in the corners and his eyes glittered softly. Something about it just made Sherlock frown in a way. “You haven’t smiled in some time.” Sherlock stated without thinking.

The man frowned softly before smiling again and nodding. “Yes, but you know, I’ve been worried about you a bit lately.” The man said, taking another sip of his tea. Sherlock tilted his head, drinking his tea without much thought besides how good it tasted. “Why have you been worried about me?” He asked curiously and the man just sighed. “You’ve been so focused on work and your experiments that you’ve hardly eaten or slept in days. As a doctor, it’s my job to worry about people. Whether or not they are my patients.” _Ah,_ Sherlock thought to himself. _So he’s a doctor._

Sherlock glanced up at the man and saw that there were lines of worry spread across his face. “I’m sorry.” Sherlock said softly and the man looked up in surprise. “You’re _what?”_ He asked and Sherlock found himself chuckling. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.” The man kept the look of surprise on his face for a few more moments before he sat back satisfied and smiled. “Well, you’re forgiven. I can’t say it’s not surprising though. You hardly ever sleep, Mr. Consulting Detective.” Sherlock smiled, another clue! So he was a consulting detective? He had no recollection of what that was, so he’d have to look it up.

He looked around, spotting a phone and picking it up. There was an engraving on the back that read Harry. Sherlock smiled happily, so this man’s name was Harry! “Sherlock.” The man, Harry, said, almost warningly. “My phone, I’ve told you to use your own.” Sherlock turned and sighed. “Can I just use it now? You’re not even on it!” Sherlock whined and Harry sighed angrily. “No! Now put it down and use your own!” He snapped, standing up and snatching his phone from Sherlock. Harry walked back to his seat and set his phone on the coffee table next to him before going back to his newspaper.

Sherlock felt a bit guilty and walked over to the man. He stood, looming over him for a moment until Harry looked up and still seemed a tad bit angry with him. Sherlock didn’t know why, but some compelling urge made him do it. He leaned down and kissed Harry’s forehead gently as his hand brushed the man’s hair on the back of his head softly. Harry seemed surprised and darted his head backwards. Sherlock bit his lip and frowned. _Shit,_ He thought. _Not good, not good._ “Sorry, I suppose I misread this situation.”

Harry just stared, seemingly entranced. “It’s just, you obviously know your way around here, and you know how to make my tea perfectly. You check on me the way a wife would do for her husband. You swayed softly in the kitchen when you were making my tea and you seemed so relieved to know that I was not hurt this morning. You also always laugh and smile in such a way that gives off the feeling that you have a soft of adoration for me. I merely assumed that we were partners of a kind, but I’m sorry, I guess it was not in my place to make that assumption.” Sherlock spoke rapidly, but the man seemed to catch up with him

Harry smiled softly and Sherlock was glad to see it. He shook his head and shrugged. “No, I suppose all first kisses are somewhat like that. But you should do it properly you know.” Harry pulled Sherlock down into a soft kiss, melding their lips together like the most perfect pieces of a puzzle. Sherlock felt his lips tingle against this man’s, and felt like something in his head was being unlocked. Harry smiled at him and Sherlock couldn’t help but smile back. He went to lean in for another kiss but Harry stood and shook his head. “No, Sherlock I’ve got to get dressed and get to work.” Sherlock sighed and smiled, kissing Harry’s cheek. “Fine, if you must.”

Harry just laughed and kissed Sherlock’s lips softly before darting off into his room and getting dressed in under about twenty minutes before he came out in simple clothes that Sherlock couldn’t help but smile at. Sherlock followed him to the door, feeling so overwhelmingly happy now as Harry smiled back at him. Harry slipped on his jacket and kissed Sherlock’s cheek softly. “Goodbye Sherlock.” He said, opening the door with a happy grin on his face. “Goodbye Harry!” The man stopped and turned back to Sherlock slowly. “Harry?” He asked softly and Sherlock froze and bit his lip. _Shit, his name’s not Harry is it?!_

“No, sorry, I’m just a bit sleepy is all. You’re obviously not your brother.” Not-Harry frowned and looked at Sherlock. _Shit shit shit, not good!_ “My…My brother… Sherlock?” Sherlock looked up to see a sort of sadness come into the man’s eyes. “What’s my name?” Sherlock bit his lip and looked down. The man staggered back and shut the door. “Oh my God, you don’t know who I am!” He gasped and pulled out his phone. “That’s it, I’m calling into work. We’re staying home and fixing this.” Sherlock looked at the man sadly as he called his worked and told them he was sick. He then began to text someone rapidly. “Who’re you texting?” Sherlock asked softly, almost wounded.

“Mycroft.” The man said in an irritated tone. Sherlock glared at that name. He didn’t remember it, but the name just didn’t feel right. “No.” Sherlock said. “Yes.” Said the man. “I don’t care if you and him have some sort of idiotic sibling rivalry, but he’s the only one who will know how to help you.” Sherlock glared, so it was his brother then? Sherlock walked over to the man who backed away quickly. Sherlock felt a pain in his heart at the movement. He leaned down to kiss the man but he, once again, backed away. “Why won’t you kiss me?” Sherlock asked with a wounded voice. The man just sighed and shook his head. “Sherlock, once you remember who you are you won’t want to kiss me anymore. Mycroft will make you remember.”

Sherlock shook his head; he didn’t want to stop feeling this warmth. It felt nice and comforting just to be around this man, he didn’t want to lose those feelings. “Tell him not to come then!” Sherlock pleaded and the man shook his head. “No, Sherlock, you don’t even know my name! It won’t matter that-” The man was cut off by Sherlock who grabbed onto his wrist tightly. “No! I can do it; I was close to remembering your name! Kiss me again; I know I will remember it for sure!” The man shook his head and backed away from Sherlock again. Sherlock felt like his heart was breaking in his chest. All he wanted was one more kiss from this beautiful, wonderful man.

Sherlock felt tears begin to fall from his eyes and the man stepped forward and brushed them away with his sleeve. “Please don’t cry Sherlock, you wouldn’t want Mycroft to see you this way.” Sherlock turned and nuzzled into the man’s hand, kissing the palm softly as his tears continued to fall. “But I don’t want to forget. I don’t want this feeling to go away.” The man’s face seemed to be filled with so much sadness; Sherlock didn’t think he could bare it. “You won’t care once you’ve forgotten Sherlock, but you’ll remember Mycroft seeing you cry.” Sherlock sniffed, but the man’s attempts to wipe away his tears were in vain.

The man’s phone buzzed and he pulled fully away from Sherlock who felt cold and empty. He swore loudly and Sherlock looked up in slight surprise. “What is it?” Sherlock asked quickly, fearing something bad had happened to him. “Mycroft said he’s busy at a meeting that’s going to keep him away for a week!” Sherlock smiled softly at the sound of this opportunity. “Perfect!” He announced loudly and took the man’s hand who looked at him in shock. “Why?” He asked quickly. Sherlock just smiled. “If I can guess your name without help from anyone else before Mycroft gets here, you have to kiss me again and let me keep my feelings.” The man seemed to think it over for a long moment before sighing softly.

“Fine, one week, but that’s all the time you get.” Sherlock smiled triumphantly and jumped up happily. He turned and walked into his room, already beginning his search. He had seven days to figure out this wonderful man’s name or lose him forever, to Sherlock, this was a life or death matter and he wasn’t going to waste a second.

 

* * * * * * * * * * 

 

**Day 1**

Sherlock spent all his time in his room, searching through a mountain of papers and books. He found nothing more than a bunch of nonsense about some murder of a child and a picture of a headless nun in it. He wondered what an inane job he must have to have all of these random things in his room. He had searched for hours on end, finding nothing more than more crude pictures and odd phrases and such things scattered about. He had found a pair of hand cuffs as well, seeming to somehow remember that they were not his and that he had in fact stolen them. Sherlock took a few moments to laugh at himself for his stupidity, but found nothing more. He worked well into the morning, finding that not sleeping came fairly easy to him

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

**Day 2**

Sherlock had gone to searching through his phone for clues. He saw text messages between him and Gregory Lestrade, and deciding to spend around a half an hour reading said messages. The man walked into the room late in the afternoon and Sherlock turned on him happily and announced. “Bingo!” the man stared in confusion and Sherlock smirked when he realized he had the man’s attention. “Your name is Dominic Anderson!” Sherlock smiled and closed his eyes as he leaned in for a kiss from Dominic Anderson. But all he felt was a slap on the side of his face and opened his eyes as he hissed in pain. “You’d better be thankful that I don’t throw you out that damned window for calling me that, Sherlock!” Sherlock frowned and looked at the man sadly. “Why? Is he bad?”

The man chuckled and Sherlock was happy to hear the sound as he watched the man give a full hearted laugh. He found himself sighing happily at the sound, but the man heard and he bit his lip as he cleared his throat and stopped laughing abruptly. Sherlock missed the sound immediately when it was gone. “Well, uhm, it’s just that Anderson…well…you absolutely hate his guts. In fact, you said once that just the thought of him looking at you threw you completely off balance.” Sherlock couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. “Well then that cannot possibly be you, you’re far too wonderful and beautiful.” The man had been laughing again but stopped just as quickly. Sherlock was about to apologize when the man made an excuse and walked out of the room quickly, grabbing his coat and leaving the house.

Sherlock slumped against the door and buried his head in his knees as he cried softly and his heart clenched painfully.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

**Day 3**

Sherlock did nothing much on this day, deciding instead to sulk until it was late at night and then he chose to run about angrily trying to find information. This however, caused much noise and the man yelled at Sherlock to go to bed. Sherlock didn’t though, and continued his noise as a child would

 

* * * * * * * * * * 

 

**Day 4**

Sherlock spent this day apologizing to the man for having been such a trouble and the man looked at him with sad eyes once more. “I’m really so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up all night and make you have to stay home from work.” The man just shook his head. “All I need, Sherlock, it sleep. Please.” Sherlock nodded, however, he was loud all that afternoon and well again into the evening.

By the end of the day though, the man told him he had to go to sleep because his noise was keeping him up. Sherlock tried to catch a quick kiss but the man shoved him away and the same sad look came into his eyes. Sherlock felt his heart clench and did then what the man told him as he showered and got dressed and into bed in all under an hour. The man seemed surprised by how quickly and easily Sherlock had listened to him. Sherlock was relieved to see the man’s smile before he shut the door and left Sherlock to sleep.

Sherlock could not manage to fall back asleep though and he cried mournfully into his pillow, finally falling asleep when he heard the man’s choked sob coming from outside his bedroom door.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

**Day 5**

Sherlock spent this day waiting on the couch for the man to come home. He had said he’d be going to work, but Sherlock had missed saying goodbye to him in the morning and he only prayed that he would come home. Sherlock stared at the door relentlessly for hours and hours, feeling like an abandoned puppy. When the man finally came home he jumped up and hugged him tight. “Oh God! I was so afraid you’d left and weren’t going to come back to me!” Sherlock cried out softly and the man just tensed before relaxing unwillingly and patting Sherlock’s back. Sherlock pulled his head back and stared into the man’s eyes which were barely blue from the size of his enlarged pupils. Sherlock leaned in for a kiss but the man shoved him back and sighed angrily. “Stop that Sherlock! We have an agreement.”

Sherlock felt tears stinging at his eyes and he cried out in complete and utter anger. “It’s obvious you want to kiss me so why you still fighting it!?” The man froze in shock. “Sherlock, I-“ Sherlock growled and turned, running into his room and shutting the door, falling down against it as he cried into his knees again. He didn’t leave his room that night or even search for clues for the man’s name.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

**Day 6**

Sherlock knew it was very important that he find out today what the man’s name was and he forced himself to not sulk and to search for clues around the house. As promised, Sherlock didn’t use any people or devices for help. This was not only to honour his and the man’s rules, but he wanted to know for himself. He wanted to regain the memories on his own. The man stepped into the room in the late afternoon and frightened Sherlock . “I-I thought you had work.” Sherlock stuttered out quickly, taking a break to look at the man who looked as if he hadn’t had any rest. “I was, I called in sick, I had no sleep last night.” Sherlock bit his lip, wondering if it had been his fault. “Why?” Sherlock asked softly and the man shrugged and gave a lazy look. “I felt bad for making you cry… I couldn’t get to sleep.” Sherlock felt his heart clenching in his chest and he stood, walking over and embracing the man.

“I’m sorry; this is all my fault for doing that dumb experiment. If I hadn’t forgotten then you wouldn’t be so tired and drowsy.” To Sherlock’s surprise, the man held him back, weakly but still there. “It isn’t your fault Sherlock…This is just all very complicated.” Sherlock sighed and pulled back, looking deep into the man’s eyes. “It doesn’t have to be…” He said, leaning down and was an inch away from the man’s lips before he pushed Sherlock away. “Sherlock! Please, don’t do this… You don’t know who I am, you probably just created some feelings with your mind or or….” Sherlock just nodded and frowned as he saw sadness cross the man face.

Sherlock knew that since he really felt as though he loved this man, it was his job to make sure that in the end he was happy. “Don’t worry,” Sherlock said. “I’m not mad or angry. You say Mycroft will make these feelings go away. I’ll let him, I see it’s troubling you very much.” The man looked up at that and Sherlock couldn’t tell what he was feeling then. Sherlock kissed the man’s forehead and he felt the man tense but smiled when he didn’t back away. “Go ahead and sleep, I won’t be making any more noise.” Sherlock walked off into his room and closed his door quietly, leaning back against it as tears fell slowly down his face. He listened as the floor boards creaked above him and smiled when he knew the man was lying in bed once more.

Sherlock curled up on his own bed sadly, looking out at the darkening London sky. He decided he’d do whatever it took to make this man happy, even if it meant forgetting his own happiness.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

**Day 7**

Sherlock woke up and sat up slowly, he knew what today was. He got dressed in a simple purple silk shirt and black pants and stepped out of his room quietly, figuring the man was asleep. Sherlock was surprised when he saw the man sitting in his red arm chair and looking out the window with his tea in hand. The man looked up when he heard Sherlock step into the room. “Oh, uhm… Good morning Sherlock, do you want me to make you your tea?” The man began to stand up but Sherlock shook his head. “No, it’s alright.” The man nodded and sat back in his chair, not knowing what else to say. Sherlock sat down on the couch and looked down at the ground. “When do you think Mycroft will get here?” He asked the man softly.

The man looked up and shrugged. “Probably around noon.” Sherlock looked at the wall clock and sighed internally when he saw that it was ten thirty. He pursed his lips together and sat back on the couch and sighed softly. He could practically feel the man watching him and he didn’t know whether or not the warmth he was feeling was good or bad. They didn’t speak for an hour exactly and Sherlock looked up and was surprised by the time. The man seemed surprised too and Sherlock glanced over at him. “Not going to work today?” He asked softly and the man shook his head. “It’s Saturday Sherlock.” Sherlock bit his lip, he had no idea how he’d missed that. “Oh, right…” There was dead silence again.

“Mycroft will be here any minute; do you think he’ll want tea or- Sherlock?” The man looked over at Sherlock quickly as Sherlock began to cry, covering his face with his hands. “I-Ignore me, I’m f-fine…” The man walked over, picking up a handkerchief and wiping at Sherlock’s eyes softly. “Sherlock, please don’t cry. I’ve already told you, you’d hate for your brother to see this a-and…” Sherlock shook his head and sniffed. “Please…” He whispered softly, holding the man’s hand to his face. “We already know that I’ve lost… you’re going to let Mycroft change my feelings no matter what now… just let me kiss you one last time…please….” The man looked absolutely weakened by this and Sherlock felt his heart clenching for various reasons. He sniffed and was about to apologize and just say never mind when the man nodded. “Okay, one more kiss, before you forget.”

Sherlock felt out of breath but he smiled happily and leaned in for a kiss but the man pushed him away. “Why? But you said-” The man cut Sherlock off and smiled. “Just, wipe your eyes alright? I don’t want you all teary eyed.” Sherlock sniffed and nodded, dabbing his eyes gently and not rushing, he had a half an hour before- _knock knock knock._ Sherlock and the man both froze and then the man sighed as he began to stand up. Sherlock gasped, no, he wasn’t going to get to kiss him now. Now that Mycroft was here that was it, he wouldn’t get it. “Door’s opened!” The man called sadly and Sherlock shook his head quickly. _No!_ Without a second thought Sherlock pulled the man into his arms and kissed him passionately, just then the door opened and Mycroft stared agape at the two.

Sherlock felt a tingling feeling in his brain and he smiled into the kiss. “John…” He whispered as he pulled out of the kiss. John’s eyes widened and he smiled. “What?” He asked happily, out of breath both from the kiss and the passion of it all. “John. John Watson.” Sherlock said smiling and Mycroft just smirked at the two. John brought his hands over his mouth as he felt tears escaping his eyes.

“Your name is John Hamish Watson. Your sister is Harry Watson, she’s a lesbian who was once married to a woman named Clara. She gave Harry that old phone you use now, Harry is an alcoholic, you two don’t speak much. You work at a clinic with your ex-girlfriend who nearly got killed, because of me, sorry about that again.” Sherlock chuckled and so did John. “You’re an ex-army doctor who served in Afghanistan. You suffered a physco-truamatic limp that when we first met I made you completely forget about it. You first accompanied me on the case which you entitled on your stupid blog ‘A study in Pink’. Mike Stamford, my college, your friend from Uni, is the one who introduced us to each other and I couldn’t be more thankful. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you and it took you a bit but you fell right back. I love you John Hamish Watson, I do, and I refuse to forget that.”

By the time Sherlock had finished talking John was in tears and Sherlock pulled him into a tight hug as he kissed at the blonde strands over and over again. John smiled happily. “I love you too Sherlock Holmes. For the completely perfect and utter arse that you are.” Sherlock smiled and kissed John deeply. Mycroft cleared his throat and said, “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not see you two swallow each other whole.” John and Sherlock both blushed when they realized he was still in the room. John buried his head in Sherlock’s chest and Sherlock just chuckled. “Oh just fuck off, Mycroft.” Mycroft just smirked and nodded. “Glad to have to back brother dear.” He said, turning and beginning to leave. “Oh, and Mycroft!” Sherlock called over his shoulder, looking at his brother.

“Caring is not a disadvantage, merely an obstacle.” Sherlock stated with a smirk. Mycroft bowed his head, and without a word he left, leaving Sherlock to kiss the love of his life with more passion than anyone would ever know.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is just a short little fan fiction I wrote the other day. I was reading an amnesia fan fiction by StarNightingle called "Are we a couple?". Please check it out, it was the most amazing thing ever! I got a bit of my ideas from it, so I wanted to give it a little shout out. Also, if any of you have any ideas on something you might like me to write, please don't hesitate to leave it in the comments because I am actually writing a fan fiction already for one of my very few followers. I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction and I'll be sure to post more later. Thank you for reading! ^-^


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